The Samara Chronicles
by Mad Vampire Poet
Summary: Samara's diary from before and after she died.  Starts a few years before she died, continuing afterwards. I just think her story is so interesting, so I wrote this. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**The Samara Chronicles**

**Chapter One**

…

_1st January 1975_

_My name is Samara Evelyn Morgan and this is my new diary. It's a birthday present, even though my birthdays not till tomorrow. Mommy said it's good to start a diary on the first day of the year, so that's why she gave it to me. She said it was for writing down all my deepest, darkest thoughts, all my secrets. Mommy says I'm a clever little girl for being able to write so well. She couldn't write much when she was five, she said. My writing is very messy, though. Mommy says that doesn't matter, as long as I can write. My writing will get neater, she says, when I get older. I guess she's right. But when I show Daddy my writing he looks at me like I'm something wrong and bad, something that shouldn't be here. He doesn't look at me like I'm his clever little girl. _

_Ealier I heard him talking to Mommy about my writing. He said it's bad, little girls shouldn't be able to write so well as I can. He thinks there's something wrong with me. _

"_She shouldn't be doing that," he said. He and Mommy were in their room, but I could hear them. I'm good at hearing things. "It's not good. She's too young! Could you write when you were that age? I sure as hell couldn't," _

"_Richard," Mommy said. "I'm not sure exactly what's so bad about a child being intelligent,"_

"_Don't you understand, Anna? It's not only intelligence. She has trouble sleeping. She always has, even when she was a baby. She never slept at all back then. And she never cried. She was never sick. She's not a normal child, Anna. I can feel it," _

_Mommy doesn't believe him and she's right not to. It's not true. I am a child, I'm their child. Why does he hate me so much? It's not fair. He claims to be worried about me, but I know he's not. I just know things sometimes, like when it's going to rain and knowing how Daddy feels is one of those things. He doesn't like me. He never liked me. But Mommy loves me. She's proud of me. But I can do things she doesn't know about yet. She has seen some things I can do, but she doesn't know it was me doing them. I move things around her and she notices, but she just thinks she's tired and forgot where she put them. If I'm angry with someone, I can make them hurt. Not much. Just a tummy ache. Like I can only move small objects, and only a short distance. But I get better the more I practice. And like I already said, I get these feelings, I know things. And I see things sometimes. When I was very little they used to keep me awake. I still have trouble sleeping. I don't always see bad things, but I do sometimes. Mostly I see Mommy. There's a picture of a white circle that I keep seeing. It gives me a bad feeling, but I don't know why. It's only a circle, surely it can't mean something bad. Mommy just came in and told me to brush my teeth and go to bed, so I have to stop writing. I'll write more in the morning._

_2nd January 1975_

_It's my birthday! I got lots of presents! Mommy got me a reading book, which she says I will probably be able to read now. I also got a dolls house and a little china doll and some new pencils to write with. I hugged Mommy to thank her for the presents. She told me to look after my doll. I promised her I would. She sitting next to me now. Daddy went outside and made me a wing, while me and Mommy went to the beach. Mommy went swimming, but I didn't go. I don't like the water. It scares me. So I played on the rocks instead. Later, Daddy took me and Mommy fishing on a boat, but we didn't catch anything. Oh well. _

_12th January 1975_

_We've gone to Shelter Mountain today. We'll be staying there for a while. It's this place Mommy and Daddy own, up in the mountains. There's this little well, and when I stand in front of it, I can see this tree. It's a very pretty tree. I stare at it for hours on end. Mommy thinks it's stange, but it really is a nice tree. I like how it is at sunset. The setting sun shines through the leaves and it looks like it's on fire. But when I look at the tree, I never get to close to the well. The well scares me. It has water in it. So I try not to fall in. But I did fall down, Mommy would rescue me. I know she would, she'd never let me be hurt. Hurt is bad, and Mommy doesn't want me to feel bad. She wants me to be happy. I think I am happy. I don't know what being not happy is like. _


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_December 8__th__ 1976_

_Last night I slept. Usually I sleep and I don't dream, or I don't remember dreaming, but last night I had a nightmare. I can't remember what happened, but I know that it scared me. Scared me so much I was afraid to sleep again. I don't sleep often anyway, but I don't think I ever will now. I'll write down what I remember._

_It was cold, and dark. I didn't know where I was, but I didn't like it. It was wet. That part didn't last long. After that I was sitting on the grass, trying to make a daisy chain. And I saw something. Something bad. I saw __them.__ The dead. The crawled and stumbled, only some of them walking normally. They looked horrible. They reached towards me, their arms outstretched like talons. Some of them touched me, but none succeeded in trying to take me to where they came from. Because I woke up. _

_When I woke up I searched my entire room, looking for paper or a notebook. And eventually I found this, the diary I hadn't seen for over a year. I have the curtains closed and the lights on even though it's daytime. It's raining outside. _

_December 11__th__ 1976_

_I saw something again, but I swear I didn't sleep. I haven't slept since I had the nightmare. But I'm not tired. It's so strange. Mommy always tells me to sleep so I don't get tired, but I'm not tired. I don't think I need sleep. _

_The thing I saw was an arm. That doesn't sound scary, but it wasn't attacthed to the body it belonged to. It was bloody and even though I couldn't touch it, I knew it was cold. I just wanted this all to go away! So I screamed. I screamed as loud as I could. Mommy came running down from the house, wanting to know what had happened. _

"_I saw something," I told her. "I saw it in my head,"_

"_What did you see Samara?" Mommy asked me._

"_I can't remember," I lied. She wouldn't want to know the truth. She'd only get more worried._

_December 24__th__ 1976_

_I never sleep. Not anymore. Mommy tells me I need to, but I don't. So I stay up all night. I don't have much to do. I used to play with my dolls house a lot, but for the past few days, I've been practicing something I only just found out I could do. I found out by accident, but I can control it. I can move things with my mind! I still play with dolls house sometimes, but most of the time I move my toys around the room. It's really hard, but I like it. No one else I know can do that!_

* * *

><p>Yes, I know the chapters are short. It's because I don't really know anything about what Samara's life was like back then. Next chapter should be longer.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_January 3__rd__ 1977_

_Earlier today, Mommy and I were in my room, playing with my dolls house. Mommy was braiding my her and humming my song. She gasped, and I knew something was wrong. Her eyes went wide with fear. _

"_It can't be," She whispered. A few seconds later, she seemed fine, but I knew what had happened, and I knew she did as well. She'd seen it. The picture from my head. Mommy could see them too now._

_February 15__th__ 1977_

_Mommy's acting strange. She spends all day just brushing her hair in the mirror. It's hard to convince her to eat or take a bath. She just stands in front of the mirror, day after day…_

_Yesterday, I snuck up on her while she was brushing her hair. I moved the mirror over to where I was with my mind. I don't like my reflection. It scares me. So I backed away from the mirror and moved it back. I went back to my room. _

_I see things so often now, and I don't know why. I make other people see things too, and I can't stop it, I can't control it. I want it to stop._

_July 18__th__ 1977_

_I'm cold and bored. I don't like this place. It's called Eola County Psychiatric Hospital. Daddy sent me here. He says it's my fault Mommy's not acting right, but I can't help it! They've put in a room. A white room, with a camera and a clock. The camera records my every movement. I don't like it here. I want to go home. _

_July 19__th__ 1977_

_They gave paper and pencils to draw with today. I drew my dolls house, the horses, and some of the things I saw in my head. When I showed them to people, they looked scared. I don't know why. They were just drawings. _

_July 22__nd__ 1977_

_I was led into a room with other children today. I kept to myself and drew a picture. The other children didn't go near me, they were afraid. One of them was crying, another complaining about a headache. I stared at my picture for ages. It didn't look right. I turned the paper over and began to draw again. But then something happened. The image started appearing on the paper, exactly how it had looked in my head. It was like a photograph. One of the other children saw it and asked how I drew it. I didn't draw it, I said. It just… happened._

_July 23__rd__ 1977_

_One of the grown-ups found my picture. This morning I was led out of the room, and into a room, all white, but big, and I sat down on a chair in the middle. There was a man standing opposite me, with a glass of water and an ashtray._

"_Hello, Samara. My name is Dr Scott," The man said. _

"_Why am I here?" I asked, my voice soft, quiet, but Dr Scott heard me. _

"_Because you're not well," he said. But I'm fine! There's nothing wrong with me. I told him that, but he didn't believe me. He insisted. I learnt that word from a dictionary belonging to Mommy. I don't think many other seven year olds know it. I waited for him to speak again. _

"_You haven't been sleeping recently," He said._

"_I never sleep," I replied. _

"_Never?" I didn't say a word. "How did you make this?" He held up my picture that was like a photograph. _

"_I didn't," I said. _

"_You did. How did you make it?" I didn't answer. _

_He went on asking me questions for a while before I got to go back to my room. The first thing I did was open this journal. I haven't done anything else. There's not much to do._

_5__th__ August 1977_

_They took me to a small, dark place. An X-ray thing, I think. They didn't tell me. Later I saw them with pictures. They were whispering and I knew they were talking about me. I don't know if I care or not. _

_7__th__ August_

_I see strange things all the time. I don't like it, I want it stop. Mommy's here now, too, but I'm not allowed to see her. I want to see her! I want to see something that's there, not in my head. Something bad is going to happen. I don't know what it is, but it's very, very bad. I keep seeing a ring of light. I know that has something to do with it, but I don't know what it is._

_9__h__ August 1977_

_I went to Dr Scott a lot since then. The fifteenth time they took me to him was the last. It was the beginning of today. I had been brought to the room as usual, and was sitting on the chair. _

"_So, what is it that's keeping you awake? You must sleep sometime. Do you dream about something? Samara?" I didn't answer him. He already knew what I would say, or he should. I __never __sleep. I don't dream anymore, because I don't sleep. He should know that. _

"_Let's talk about the pictures," His voice was lazy and tired, as though he just wanted to get this whole thing over with. "How do you make them? Samara? How did you make these pictures?" I had to answer him. Otherwise he'd never stop talking._

"_I don't make them. I see them. And then… They just are…" _

"_Samara. I need you to start telling me the truth okay?" That annoyed me. I __was __telling the truth. I didn't __do__ anything. Not on purpose. But no one believed me._

"_Can I see my mommy?" I asked. Mommy would believe me. I know she would. Mommy loves me. _

"_No Samara, not until we understand what's wrong with you," Dr Scott said._

"_I love my mommy." _

"_Yes, you do. And you don't want to hurt her anymore, do you?" Dr Scott asked me. It was so… I don't know what the word is. Frustrating? I just know I hated all these questions… Why didn't he know the answers to them by now? Of course I didn't want to hurt Mommy. It just happened. _

"_But I do," I said, remembering the headaches I'd given her, and the visions. "And I'm sorry. It won't stop."_

"_Well, that's why you're here.__ So that I can help you to make it stop." That's not true. They don't want to help me. They just want to hurt me. I wonder if Mommy's alright. Is she here? Are they hurting her too?_

"_He's going to leave me here," I said. _

"_Who?" As if he didn't know._

"_Daddy."_

"_They just want to help you,"_

"_Not Daddy,"_

"_Your Daddy loves you," Dr Scott said. He was wrong. I know he was._

"_Daddy loves the horses. He wants me to go away. But he doesn't know…" _


	4. Chapter 4

The Samara Chronicles

Chapter Four

_9th August 1977 (continued)_

"_He doesn't know what? Samara?" I looked up at him. He looked scared, as if he'd seen a ghost. And then suddenly he dropped the cigarette he'd been holding and fell backwards, spilling his glass of water. I tried to get up, but I was told not to move. But I wanted to know what had happened! People went over to Dr Scott. I heard some of them gasp, like they were scared. One of them screamed, and the other fainted. I still didn't know what had happened. I was taken back to my room. But they couldn't stop me from seeing. I don't know how it happened, just like always. I saw his face. I saw it in my head. His mouth was wide open, twisted. It was strange. He looked funny and scary both at once. That was why the person had screamed. He was dead. I killed him. _

_I'm still in my room, and haven't been allowed out once, not even to eat. Food was brought to me instead. I wonder if the other children realise I'm not eating with them. I think they do. They always stared at me. They'd notice if I'm gone. I'm not there. They must think that's good. Well, so do I. They don't like me. They call me a freak. But this is a place for crazy people, so they must be crazy. But I'm not crazy. And Mommy's not crazy. Is she? I think she's here. I want to see her. But they won't let me. _

_16th August 1977 I haven't left my room for one week. Seven days. I don't like it here at all. I want to go home and see Mommy. They won't go near me anymore. They give me things. Pills. I take them, but they don't work. They don't do anything._

_February 30th 1978_

_Soon after my last entry in this journal, it was taken away from me. I'm not there anymore. I'm not at the hospital. I'm at home. But it's different. It's all changed, and it's not good at all! I live in the barn now. Daddy sent me here. I hate it! I'm not allowed to see Mommy. I'm not allowed to see anyone. I'm eight now. I want to go to school, but Daddy won't let me. Mommy doesn't say anything. Not to me, or to Daddy. I'm not alone in the barn. The horses are here. I don't like the horses. They're noisy. They keep me up at night if I try to sleep. Not like that's often. I'm so scared. I keep seeing things. It's getting worse and worse. I just want them to go away. I want it all to be how I was. I want to be like the other kids. I want to be able to live in the house with Mommy and Daddy, not in the barn with the horses. I want to go to school. I want to stop being scared of water. I want Mommy and Daddy to love me. _

_March 4th 1978_

_I can't see what I'm writing right now, and I know my writing must be very messy. The words must be overlapping and slanting and _

_The horses keep making noises. I don't like them. They don't like me. Mommy and Daddy like them. They don't like me. Not anymore. They love the horses more than their own daughter. It's not fair, it's not fair at all! _

_August 7th 1978_

_The horses are getting even worse. Why? Why can't they just leave me alone? I don't want to be left alone completely, though. The horses are my only company. The T.V doesn't work anymore. It did once. I used to be able to watch MTV. But now… it's stopped. It just… won't work anymore. I don't know why. All I see is static when I turn it on. Static like flies. Little flies… flying. I'm so bored! I don't want to play with my dolls house. It doesn't work, it won't stop me thinking. Nothing will. I want to be somewhere else. Somewhere I don't have sadness following me everywhere I go, somewhere I can be with just Mommy and me. Not Daddy, not the horses. Just me and Mommy. That would be nice_

I know, not much happened. Bit more might next chapter. Can hardly say for definite though.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

_September 6th 1978_

_I'm scared. The horses are getting worse and worse. It looks like they're trying to break free. I know that can't hurt me, not when I'm up here. I could fall, but the horses can't get me. They still scare me. They're going crazy, and I don't know why. Animals have never acted right around me, but this is worse than it has ever been before. I worry about Mommy. I almost cry when I think about her. She used to love me, she used to be happy. But now she doesn't, now she isn't. I see her face sometimes, and she looks older. She used to look so young and energetic… And now... I don't know. Somehow I can't help thinking it's my fault. Everyone seems to blame me, after all. But I didn't do anything, not on purpose! I love my Mommy, I want her to be happy, why doesn't anyone know that? They say I'm a bad little girl, that I should have never been born. I don't want them to think that, but they do. I remember saying that I didn't know what it was like not being happy. I don't think that now. Now, I think I can't remember what it was like being happy. I've been unhappy for so long now… sad, angry, confused. This is not how a normal eight year old lives, I know it isn't. They're not poked and prodded and constantly watched, they're not locked up with mad horses for the good of the people they love. They say I'm evil, but I'm not. They don't know. What I've been through. They can't begin to understand what I think, what I feel. They think of me as an evil little girl. I'm neither. I am a little girl really, but I don't always think like someone my age, or act like them. It's like I'm growing up faster than I should, but I can't help that, I can't stop it, I can't do anything. It's like… I don't know. I can't put it into words what it's like. I can feel something coming. It's gotten so much closer. I know I can't stop that either. I can't control anything in my life. No. I never will. Control is not something I'll ever get. Or will I? I can't imagine what's going to happen in the future. The thing that's coming, whatever it is… Will it change me? Will it hurt me? I won't know until it happens, and I'm scared for that. I'm so, so scared. _

_8th September 1978_

_I feel even worse than normal today. I'm not scared. I'm terrified. No one would guess to look at me… But that's how I feel. Two of the horses broke free yesterday. They ran away. I was told they drowned. They killed themselves. And Daddy says I made them do it. But I didn't mean to! I didn't cry while he was in my barn, but as soon as he left, I didn't care anymore. I just cried. It's been a long time since I've done that. I'm sitting on my bed right now. Other than writing, I suppose I'm thinking. Thinking about things used to be. Before Mommy came to get me, I belonged to another Mommy. It's her I'm thinking about. I don't remember her much. I have a book that she made, before she tried to drown me. It scares me. I don't like it. That Mommy tried to kill me, so I was given to my Mommy now. I love my Mommy, and she loved me, but now… Everything's different. It's always changing. _

_21st September 1978_

_We were in the newspaper. About the horses. They keep killing themselves. They won't stop. I keep seeing things, and it's getting worse and worse. Everything's getting worse. I wish it wouldn't. I wish everything was normal. I was I was normal. If I couldn't see things, then maybe this wouldn't have happened. Maybe I'd still be with Evelyn, and she wouldn't be crazy, and everything would be happy. I don't want any of this to happen, and it will stop. I will stop, I'll make it stop. I'll make it stop, and I'll be happy. I will. One day. But not yet. Something has to happen first, and it's bad and scary and… and I don't want it to happen. I don't want it to happen at all, it's terrifying! But it has to happen. So I can be happy. It's going to take a long time. But I'll be happy. And isn't that what I want? Someone to love me? It's what I've always wanted. So I'll let the bad thing happen. I'll let it happen, and I'll wait. I'll wait until I get my chance. My chance for what? I don't know yet. I don't know anything. I can't do anything. Yet. I will make it change. But not now I can't. _

_20th October 1978_

_I feel miserable. The horses are all dead now. Mommy's home, and she doesn't like it. She's gone so crazy. I don't think there's anything left of who she used to be. It's so sad, I wish she was back. I wish she loved me. But it's not going to happen. We're leaving soon, we're going to go to Shelter Mountain Inn again. It's been such a long time since we've gone there. I used to love it, but now… now I don't know if will. I think I'll be miserable for the rest of my life. But what come after life? I can't write any more. Daddy's coming to get me, putting the ladder down. I'm going to leave this diary in here. I don't think I want to take it with me. I don't even know if I want to take me. Mommy and Daddy are trying to be nice, trying to act like normal, but I'm so scared. I know something bad will happen. I still don't know what the bad thing is, but it's coming, and it's coming soon. After that, things will get better. But after a very long time. I hate not knowing. Not knowing what's going to happen to me, not knowing when it will be, not knowing anything. _

* * *

><p>I have decided that she will continue her diary after death, so there will be more chapters. I don't know exactly what's going to happen but I <em>will <em>work it out.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Author Note: I posted the wrong chapter, I'm so sorry! This is the right chapter, and it's not the last one. Thanks for all your reviews so far. Why didn't someone tell me that I'd got the wrong chapter sooner? Grr.

_1st May 2002_

_I shouldn't be here. But nobody can tell me to leave. There is no one. I'm alone, completely alone. But I'm free, after so many years of waiting, which all seem so… endless. I'm finally free. But I'm still dead. Dead as I've been for the past… how long is it? Twenty-four years. I've been dead for twenty-four whole years, waiting in the dark, waiting for freedom. I feel older. So much older. But I feel the same age. I'll always be the same age. I don't want to be. I want to be alive. But I can't be, I can never be. But somehow, I think I can. I don't know if that's right. I don't think it is, but I'll hang onto it. I'll hope. If hope is gone then everything human in me is gone. I'm not the little girl I used to be. I haven't been in a long time. I'm different now, so very different. I've been trapped for twenty-four years in that well. I haven't been able to write for that long. It seems like a lot should have happened in that time, but it didn't. Just over two decades, and everything seems almost the same. But it's completely different at the very same time. So much has changed. So much… I'll write down everything that happened. I don't know why I have to, I just want to. I'll write it like I'm writing it as it happens, not like it has happened before. Like I'm writing a diary while I was there, in the well, when I couldn't have possibly had real paper._

_22nd October 1978_

_I'm at Shelter Mountain Inn. Mommy gave me a present, a china doll. She's pretty, but she doesn't help me. I'm still scared. I want to go home. This place used to make me happy, make me sad to go. But now it makes me so scared. I'm big enough to fall down the well now, but only just. I don't know why I wrote that, it's not a good thing. It's just something I pay attention to. I'm different, I know that, and not in a good way. Nobody thinks I'm good at all. I'm standing at the well now, singing._

_" 'Here we go, the world is spinning. When it stops, it's just beginning' " My voice sounds perfect, echoing back up to me from the well. I'm not looking at the well though. I like the noises it makes when I sing, but I don't actually like it. It scares me. It always has, but now worse than ever before. I know something bad is going to happen. I'm about to start singing the rest of the song, but then I know Mommy's behind me._

_"Isn't it beautiful here, Samara?" She asks me. I say nothing. It's Mommy. I realise that now. It's Mommy who's going to do the bad thing to me. And it has something to do with the well… "So peaceful. I know things will get better," She goes on. I don't know why she bothers to say it. It won't help. It doesn't help. I feel her put something over my head. A plastic bag. Mommy's suffocating me. Mommy's trying to kill me! I'm struggling, trying to get free, to breathe. But I can't! I see the black plastic in front of my eyes for a while, but then it's gone. Everything is gone. I can't see anything. I can't move, I can't see, and I can't hear. I'm somewhere else._

_23rd October 1978_

_Mommy threw me down the well. I woke up when I was still falling towards the water. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. It felt awful. I feel awful. I heard her say as she closed the lid of the well,_

_"All I ever wanted was you,"_

_If that's true, why did she throw me down here? If I was all she'd ever wanted? I don't know. I'll never know. I don't think I'll get the chance to know. I don't think I'll get the chance to live. The water in here is so cold, and it's so hard to stay above the surface. Someone will find me. They have to. They can't just leave me here! But they will, I know that, yet at the same time I desperately wish it wasn't true. They'll leave me to die here. Mommy's not coming. Daddy's not coming. No one's coming. I'll be left here all alone, for the rest of my short life. I don't want to die! I'm crying. I haven't cried in a while. And now I'm crying. My tears are falling down my face into the dirty well water. I'm making sniffing noises, crying out for help, but no one can hear me! They never will. I have to make them, someday. But I can't. Can I? I'll die here, won't I? I feel cold and hungry, and bored. I want to get out of here. But I can't escape. I try and try, but there's no hope. None at all. I climb up and up and up but I always fall right back down. I'm not strong enough. There are long scratch marks on the walls of the well from each of my failed escape attempts. I've broken a couple of my nails. But I won't give up. I can't give up!_

_25th October 1978_

_This is the third day I've been here. It scares me so much, I can feel myself getting weaker and weaker, never managing to get out. Sometimes, I get as far as halfway, and then I fall again. My nails have started actually breaking off my fingers, and the fingers themselves aren't looking too good either. They're bloodied, battered and wrinkled. Why does water make your skin go wrinkly? I've never found out. I shiver all day. I wish I could sleep. Then I'd die quicker; I wouldn't have to suffer so much. Mommy thought I was already dead, she thought she was disposing of my body. But she doesn't know I'm still alive. No one seems to know anything about me. They're all so oblivious. Did I even use that word right? I want to get out of here! I keep trying and trying, but it never does any good. I'm stuck here. I feel so angry. Angry, scared, sad lonely… and confused. I'm really confused. Why was I thrown down here, just left to die? Mommy said she loved me. She said I was all she ever wanted. But that can't be true! Mommy and Daddy have always loved the horses more than me! They should have just given up when they found out Mommy couldn't have a child. But then the same would probably happen to me, or similar. Just with a different family. I don't want to die!_

_28th October 1978_

_I'm even weaker now than I've ever been. I'm half starved and frozen. I know there's no way I can survive. I'm so angry. I'll kill them! I'll kill them all for what they did to me! They let me suffer… And now I'll make them suffer. Everyone will suffer. I won't just die! I can't die! I've been in here for six days, nearly seven. I don't know how I've managed to keep track, but I have. I'm dying, I know that. But I also know it won't be forever. At least, I don't think so. With all of me I wish not to do, I cling to life as much as I can… It won't help… But I won't die! Not forever. I've kept seeing things, things getting worse and worse, but somehow not as bad. They're almost better than the real life. Life, which is almost over so many years before it should be. I don't want to die. I never wanted to die. So I'll kill them. I don't know how, but I know I can do it. I'll punish them, I'll hunt every last one of them down. There'll be no more struggling to stay above the surface of the water, not more pain. I'll get my revenge. And then I'll be happy._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

_21st May 2002_

_So that was it. That was how I died. I'm still dead now, but I'm not… I never died, not like normal. I stayed. I waited. For a chance. And it paid off. The chance came. I'm writing these words with my mind; I'm still dripping wet. I can read with my mind too. I read this book, called Dracula… I didn't like it very much. My favourite book is Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. It makes me feel like a small child when I read it. The child I never really got a chance to be. I want to be a child again. I want to feel like I did when I was really little, when I was four or five… But I can't be. I can't be a child, or an adult. I never will be either of those things, because I'm nothing, I'm dead. Not dead how most people are dead, but I'm still dead. I always will be. But I came back. I was in the well, barely holding on, just clinging to what remained of life… But then there was my chance. A group of teenagers. Trying to record a football game. I could see what I'd been waiting for. My powers kept getting stronger, even after my death… I was able to record something else over their football game. And it's not what it seems. It's cursed. It shows images from my life… and death. And then they get a phone call. 'Seven days,' I say to them. Seven days until they die. Seven days, just like me. I show them more things, show them my suffering. They don't respond. They don't try to help. So I kill them. It gives me satisfaction, in a way. Killing makes me feel alive again, just for a moment. All that pent up rage… It's all released when I kill. But then it's back in full force, leaving me desperate to kill again… But that's not what I want. No, I don't want to kill everyone. Well, I do, but it's not the only thing I want. I want them to hear me, to understand me, to help me… and maybe even love me. But can that ever be? Yes, yes, it can! I just realised. Rachel Keller! One of my victims… She felt sorry for me, she freed me… I can make her love me… I just need to know how. It's been three months since she watched my tape, but I know she hasn't forgotten me. They never do. I stay in their minds forever and ever... They can't sleep with the fear lingering in their pitiful mortal minds… And she has her little boy, Aidan Keller. He's older than me, about ten or eleven. I could masquerade as him... I just need to figure out how…_

_21st August 2002_

_I found her. Astoria is the name of the town she lives in now, in Oregon. She's got her boy with her. Little Aidan. He likes taking pictures. But he needs a camera to take them. I visit him, in his dreams, in his mind. He's scared, but he hasn't told yet. He knows I'm not with him yet. But I will be. He doesn't know that. He doesn't know much compared to me. He has power, I can feel it from the outside… But it's not much. He knows, but not enough. He knows who I am. He can see, but not that deep. He only sees the surface of me, the crazy, homicidal maniac. He doesn't see the lonely little girl – I keep her hidden. I don't like them to think I'm weak. I like them to be scared, and it's not possible to be scared of someone that is herself scared. I don't show them that side of me. _

_22nd August 2002_

_They thought they were safe. But now they're scared. I have Aidan. I haven't taken over him, but I have him. I'm writing with my hands again – well, Aidan's hands, anyway. I went to get this diary just now, and I'm keeping it hidden in Aidan's room. I have to hide it, because I don't want Rachel or Aidan to find out it's here. I don't take control of Aidan for long. If he notices the gaps in his memory… He'll tell. I don't want him to tell. Then it will all be ruined. If everything goes well, I might get to be a normal child. For a while, at least. _

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><p>Short chapter, I know.<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter Eight _

_23rd August 2002_

_I've taken control of Aidan completely now. But I made his body sick. I'm in the hospital. I don't want to be in the hospital. I want to see Rachel, my mommy! She wants to take me back. She thinks I'm Aidan. But they won't let her. She's gone now. She knows I'm here. I don't think she knows what I've done, who I'm trying to be… But she knows I'm here. She's scared. I don't want Mommy to be scared! I want her to love me! She has to come back to me, she has to! I hate it here. I want to go. The doctors won't let me go. They say I'm here for my own good, but I know I'm not. I'm fine, why can't they see that? They don't know anything. _

_Later_

_I left the hospital. I didn't like it there. The doctor didn't want me to go, but I had to. So I killed her. I didn't like her anyway, and neither did Mommy. I'm outside Max's house now. But I don't like him. We don't need him. He has no need. He's not here now. I'm all alone. I feel excited. Will I finally be able to be happy? Will I finally have a mommy who loves me? I've been hoping for so long… I can hardly believe it. It's finally here._

_Later still_

_Max came over to his house. I don't like Max. I went inside and tried to watch T.V. I can't let him see this diary._

"_Hey. Shouldn't you be at the hospital?" He asked me. I don't like that question. Why is it his business to know where I should be? He should stay away from me._

"_No. I'm here, waiting for my Mommy," I told him. But he didn't leave. He kept talking. Doesn't he understand I don't want him?_

"_Well, uh… You can't really leave until the hospital says it's okay. You were very, very sick," And I don't care. "You're all right now?" He asked, a note of doubt in his voice. I look up at him, as if I'm going to say something, but I don't say anything. "The cable setup at my house… the TV needs to be on channel three." Max told me. I pressed the button on the T.V remote, and the picture changed from the static. There was a boy with a big nose and a blue and white striped T-shirt with a daisy, plucking the petals from it. His name was Billy, and the cartoon was called The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. I don't know how I know this, I just know. Everything has been that way, for my whole life. The life that's now over. I've never been normal. Ever since I was born – maybe even before that – I've had power much greater than anyone can dream of. It was curse. But now, I use it to my advantage. Now, it's almost a blessing. I can control my power now, or at least more so than I could. _

"_Thank you, Max," I said to him, not really meaning what I was saying. _

"_Sure," He said, walking away and taking his coat off. I sat there watching the T.V. It was quite interesting. I guess I'm still a kid, even if I've been dead for so long. _

"_Your mom loves you, you know," Max said, out of the blue. "She loves you a lot. You tell someone if you weren't sure about that, right? Like if she'd been… hurting you, somehow… Did she ever treat you like you were, someone else?"_

_I turned to face him. No. He couldn't know. That was why I didn't like him. He was ruining everything! I can't let anyone know…_

"_I'm not somebody else!" I told him. "I'm Aidan. We don't need anyone else." _

"_I know, that's right," He was saying, before I'd even finished talking._

"_We don't need you, or that doctor, or anyone else. Okay?"_

"_Okay," He said. I went back to watching Billy and Mandy. Max had a camera in his hands; he was raising it up to my face._

"_What are you doing?" I asked him. He was going to find out. But I wouldn't let him. _

_He stopped. "I was… just gonna take a picture of you," _

"_No," I said. I couldn't let him take the picture. He'd see me. I couldn't let that happen._

"_It'll be for your mom," Max said. It was kind of pathetic really. Why was he so desperate to take my picture? How did he know he'd find anything?_

"_No," I told him again, adamantly refusing. _

"_Why not? What's wrong with taking your picture?" He asked. _

"_I'll tell you what's wrong if you promise not to take it. But that's only if you promise," I said to him. _

"_Fine, I promise," He said, his face breaking into a smile momentarily. He put the camera back, spreading his arms as he did so. But I noticed what he did. I saw the flashing red light. So he thought he could fool me? I'll show him. _

"_So, Aidan, what's the story?" I kept my eyes on the flashing light of the camera. He was recording me, trying to catch me. It wouldn't work. I didn't say anything. "Aidan? Are you feeling okay?" Max asked, concerned. Like he really cared about me. "Aidan?"_

_I turned to face him. I knew he could see the pure, undiluted fury in my eyes. He was confused, but I didn't care._

"_I'm not Aidan Keller," I said. "I'm Samara Morgan. But you can't tell," _

"_I-I won't tell," Max said, just as confused. I could tell he was lying. But it didn't matter. Doesn't matter. Won't matter. Ever._

"_No. You can't tell. Not you won't tell…I won't let you tell," I looked into his eyes, letting the full force of my fury run free as he let out an inhumanly loud scream. He was dead. Like so many more of my victims. I picked him up. Aidan's body is weak, but I can use my powers to be stronger. I dragged him out of the house and placed his body in the car. I didn't want Rachel to know he was dead. She wouldn't like it. She's not back yet, but she will be soon. I know she will. _

_Even Later_

_I'm writing a lot today. I guess a lot has happened. Mommy's home! She's sleeping now. But she's with Aidan… I don't know what's going on, I can't hear them, but it can't be good. I don't want Mommy to be with Aidan, I want her to be with me! She loves me, I know she does… Why else would she have saved me? She wouldn't have. If she didn't like me, she'd have left me alone… She wouldn't have helped me. No one would have helped me… I'd still be left there all alone in the dark, scared and angry and confused. I'm not going back there. No one can make me go back there. Mommy would protect me if anyone tried. I know she would. _

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><p>The chapters are always so short... Most of this was just transcribed from the Ring Two! I am so lazy...<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

Next chapters the last one, and it's a bit different… Different how? I'll give you a hint. It's not a diary entry. Hey, I got nine reviews! Thanks guys! Doesn't sound like much but it seems like a lot to me!

Chapter Nine

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><p><em>I can't write anymore. Mommy knows. She knows I'm not Aidan, not her son. I know what he told her to do. I want myself to think she won't do it, and I really hope she doesn't… But she'd give anything for him. Why? Why doesn't anyone love me? I want to cry, but I'm not going to. I can't. And Mommy's not crying. She wants to as well. She wants me to go, wants me to leave<em>

He's going to leave me here

_but she can't leave me! It's not fair! Nobody's ever wanted me. They're all the same. She felt sorry for me, and I know she loved me. But when I came back… she just wanted me to go away._

He wants me to go away

_Why is that here? That memory? Those memories, I hate them! Why can't they leave me alone? Not even the people inside the memories leave me alone… Mommy and Daddy are dead, they killed themselves. Suicide. Now they haunt me, they're stuck in my head, I hear their thoughts as loud as everyone has always heard mine. Every second… They're just like me, they never sleep. They're dead. And me… I don't know about me. I used to be able to sleep when I was alive, but I didn't need it and I don't know why. I never needed water. I read that a human can die of thirst after just three days or so without drinking water. The whole time I was in that well, I never took one sip, and it took a week for me to die, and it wasn't even from thirst. The water killed me. _

They don't dream you know. The dead don't dream. You have to sleep to dream. And the dead never sleep. They wait. They watch for a way to get back.

_Stop it! That voice, again and again in my head… I hate it! I want it gone! It's Mommy. The one that didn't succeed when she tried to kill me… Why do these things always happen to me? It was never my fault at the start. When I was small, I couldn't control myself. As I got big, I got strong, but I still couldn't control myself. The people of Moesko Island blamed me for every little thing that went wrong. They saw I was different, and they were scared. They were always scared. Well, now they have a reason to be scared. If they'd just tried to help, instead of trying to hurt… I would have had problems, there's no doubt about that, I'm naturally not the best person… But I'm also not the worst. If they'd been nice, none of this would've happened. I grow up, get a job, whatever. I would murder everyone. I wouldn't murder anyone. But after what they'd done… I'd had enough. The well didn't kill me properly. I'm too strong to die. I'll always remain… And that's what's bad. I wasn't evil even as I took my last breath, not completely. It was after I died that everything good just… went away. The well was the straw that broke the camels back. And the longer I stay there, the worse it gets… And she wants me to go back! Doesn't she know what it's like! She understands me, but she still won't save me! She just wants to leave me, leave me like they all did… If they all left me, why are they so surprised at what became of us? Everything that happened was their own fault. I wanted to show them how they made me felt. The tape was revenge… But in a way, it was also a cry for help. I wanted someone who'd love me. Someone to love… I thought it was Rachel, but I was wrong. And now… I don't know what will happen. Should I give up? Just try and die like I'm supposed to? Or keep trying? Find someone who wants me? Would that even work? Mommy Anna wanted me. At first. Then I got strong. And I hurt her. But I never meant to! I loved her, I never wanted to hurt her! I was sorry, I said so! Why didn't they ever leave me alone!_

_I hear Mommy downstairs now. I think she's nearly finished in the kitchen. I have to hurry. I hope everything turns out okay, even though I almost know it won't. _

…

_I'm not okay. I'm back here in the well. I don't have this book with me; it's still at Rachel's house. I'm writing with my mind. I hope Rachel finds it. I want to get out! She understands me, I know she does. She knows that all I wanted was her. But she trapped me back here in the dark. She said she's not my mommy. She yelled it. And she swore. _

I'm not your fucking Mommy!

_I remember. She hates me just all the others. Thinks I should just crawl down in a hole and die. Well… I am in a hole. And I am dead. So that makes perfect sense now, doesn't it? I can't get out. I'm stuck. Stuck in the well again, singing again to just pass the time. I just realised my hair grows. There's a lot stuck at the bottom underwater, but there's also a lot on my head. So it must grow. _

_Rachel was actually going to do it. She was going to kill her son just to get rid of me. But she loves Aidan. If she'd kill him, what must she think of me?Mommy. Rachel. I don't know what to call her. I'm alone again. But once I get out… I'll be worse. I'll kill them all. _

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><p>Feel sorry for poor Samara? I do. Believe it or not but The Ring TwO is the only movie that ever made me cry…<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter Ten_

December 2009

Rachel closed the front door behind her. She'd just taken Aidan home from school. He protested that he could walk home, but it got dark quickly in the winter and she didn't want him going anywhere there could be danger. No matter how little he said it, she knew he couldn't wait until his sixteenth birthday when he'd be able to drive himself. Aidan was up in his room now. She wasn't sure what he was doing. Probably looking at his pictures. He'd become near enough obsessed with taking pictures and video's. Carrying on his father's legacy, she guessed. She'd been afraid of getting a boyfriend ever since Max had died. Samara couldn't kill anyone personally, but if anyone watched the tape… Rachel kept trying to destroy them, the tapes, but she couldn't bring herself to. If she destroyed them, someone would die. But if she didn't destroy them, someone would die. How stupid.

She sighed and walked into the kitchen. She started making hot chocolate for Aidan and herself, when she realised that the tap was dripping. She turned it off, and resumed making the hot chocolate. The tap started dripping again. And she hadn't turned it on.

"Samara?" She called. She didn't know for sure if she was expecting an answer, but none came. She turned the tap off again, and headed upstairs.

"Aidan!" She called, knocking at his door. She waited two seconds for him to open it, and passed him the hot chocolate.

"Rachel… She's here," He said. He walked back into his room. He opened the door wider as he did so, giving Rachel a good view of the paper thrown all over his room. Paper he'd drawn on. Paper he'd drawn _Samara's face_ on. Those pictures were nightmarish. Rachel walked back inside, and Aidan looked up at her.

"Aidan…" She started, swallowing. "Why? Why did you draw those pictures?"

"She told me to." He said. Rachel took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. It was just like when he'd watched the tape.

"Aidan? What do you mean she's here?" She asked, desperately.

"She's here, with us. She's always been here. She never went away. She's in the dark place. But she's also here," Aidan said. He went back to shading in his drawing. He had become a better artist since this had last happened, and that just made the drawing's scarier. Rachel left the room, going back downstairs. She could hear the dripping tap again.

_Drip, drip, drip…_

The tap wasn't leaking.

_Drip, drip, drip…_

But the sound hadn't stopped. If the tap wasn't leaking, where was that sound coming from? And then Rachel recognised the unforgettable sound of static. She ran the rest of the way down the stairs, coming face to face with a television.

_Drip, drip, drip…_

That's where the sound was coming from. The television was leaking. Rachel walked closer to it, even though every part of her brain told her it was a bad idea. It was almost like she couldn't control her own limbs…

_Drip, drip, drip…_

She put her hand under it. It was like it was raining, with the water spurting out of the screen. And then, Rachel knew it was far too late as she heard another sound join the dripping and the static. The – also unforgettable – unnatural sound the well made. She looked up. There it was. Still closed.

_Rachel…_

Rachel gasped. She could hear Samara in her mind. Her voice had the breathy quality of a whisper, yet she heard her loud and clear.

"Get out of my mind!" Rachel cried.

_Rachel… _

"Leave us alone!" She shouted. What did Samara want now?

_Rachel… The attic…_

Rachel stopped yelling. The attic? What did the attic have to do with anything? She didn't move. She just stood there, frozen. Why was this happening?

_Rachel… Go… The attic…_

Rachel shook her head.

"No, Samara," She sobbed. She held her head in her hands. Why was this happening to her?

_Rachel! Go to the attic!_

Samara sounded desperate. Rachel really didn't want to do what the murderous little psychopath was telling her to. But what choice did she have? She knew Samara. She knew she was powerful. She knew she could kill someone without being anywhere near them. If she didn't want her to hurt Aidan, she had to do what she was saying. She started walking back up the stairs. She shivered, but not because she was cold. She just realised she'd been biting her lip when she tasted the metallic blood in her mouth. When she reached the first floor landing, she went into the cupboard to get a ladder. Ladder. Just like in Samara's barn. This particular one was actually red, as well. She leant it against the wall, and began to climb. It wasn't easy being scared as she was, and she nearly fell more than once. She could feel her blood running faster in her veins, in a way that was far from pleasant. She climbed up into the attic and sat down.

"What now?" She called out.

_Open the box… The big black one…_

Rachel knew which box Samara meant. It was an old box, which she believed had once been her great-grandmothers. There was nowhere to put it, so she kept it here. She walked over to it. It was locked.

"Samara…"

_The key's on the shelf…_

Rachel ran over to the shelf and grabbed the key. It fit perfectly in the lock of the black chest. She opened it. And staring back at her was a red, spiral bound notebook, slightly water-damaged. She frowned. She'd never seen it in her house before.

_Read it…_

Rachel did so. It was Samara's diary. Despite how much Rachel feared her, some of it almost made her cry. Especially the end. And the beginning. At the beginning – when she was five – Samara seemed so innocent. It was hard to believe she'd grow into a murderous psychopath. All she'd ever wanted was someone to love her… She just didn't understand how to make them do that. She didn't understand people at all. Maybe that was why nobody understood her.

"I'm sorry, Samara," Rachel said. "But I needed to save my son. And everyone else. And I couldn't let any more people die… I'm sorry, but I'm not letting you out," Samara gave no answer. Rachel left the attic, diary in hand. The T.V was off. That was strange.

THE END

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><p><em>That's it. The end. No more after this. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing, it makes me happy to know that someone out there has enjoyed my work, even if it's not that good. I'm planning to rewrite sometime, though. Keyword there being planning. May never happen. So, who liked the ending? Did I keep everyone in character? I might not have, since I just switched Samara from the protagonist to the antagonist. And yes, what Rachel read was what you have all just read. <em>


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